Spellbound
by Half Blood-Jedi-Warlock
Summary: Ten years of war? Check. Betrayal, brotherhood, & friendship? Check. An era of peace? Check. Love in the air? Check. Foolish fairies & interesting incantations? Check. These are all requirements on the list titled "Something's Gonna Happen". Watch me as I learn of my origins, trip all over the countryside, almost die, & fall in love. My name is Ella of Frell. This is my story.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ella Enchanted, or any of Gail Carson Levine's works, or Musketeers. Simply trying to make my own magic in her world. Please donate a trunkful of gold KJs for every review!**

* * *

 **A/N: This fanfic is a plot bunny that's been bouncing around in my head for a few months. Ella Enchanted is one of my favorite books, the movie didn't do it justice; and I've been watching The Musketeers show for a while now. BBC seriously has some of the best shows out there. I had to get it out before I resumed my other stories. I know I'm not at all consistent with updates, but I'm so excited to finally be back! Also, I am weaving my own tale of Ella and her curse and how she breaks it. There will definitely be similarities and sentences from the book, but I'm trying to make a more in-depth and adult version of Ella, while trying to keep the whimsical. Elements from other Cinderella tales will also be present.**

 **Look for fun little names that will be pointers to some of my favorite movies/TV shows, and also try to guess who-is-who in my mixed up world. For starters, my first clue is that the "Musketeers" = the "King's Sentinels" (elite battle forces in Kyrria). So sit back, read, and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _Prologue: Origins_

Peace. Finally, after ten years of battle, the kingdom of Kyrria was at peace. I closed my eyes in relief, listening to the explosion of celebration in the streets below the palace. Almost everyone shared the joy of seeing their loved ones again, remaining safe and ignorant from the realities of war. Those men who did not return left a gnawing hole where they once existed. Their families shared the price we paid for their freedom in blood, sweat, and tears.

King Jerrold, our soveriegn ruler of Kyrria, felt this as well. I watched him struggle for the past four years that I've known him, whilst fighting a war on three fronts, ruling a country, and managing a family. I didn't envy him at all. Even as he walked through the ballroom with his queen on his arm and his 2- year-old heir on his shoulders, with congratulations and wine flowing equally around him at the celebration banquets, sadness shadowed his face. I'm certain that ten years ago, that was not the case. War damages a man inside and out.

Four strange requests for military aid arrived in the court, years apart. The first one came in the form of an mostly-dead messenger ten years ago. It was short and desperate, and also apparently looked like it had been written by a drunkard. King Jerrold and Queen Daria decided to send their elite Kyrrian soldiers, the King's Sentinels, to investigate Bamarre, one of the neighboring kingdoms to the northwest.

The King's Sentinels were the elite military force of Kyrria, and specialized in espionage and mastery of all weapons and environments. They were the pride and joy of General Tristan, right-hand man of King Jerrold, who founded a garrison school that trained all future Sentinels. Being a fair man, General Tristan was given permission from King Jerrold to allow anyone who qualified to enter the garrison for training. Blood and rank did not count above skill, and it showed in the mixed company of lords, knights, men, and a few giants and elves. This influential group included my fellow brothers-in-arms Count Athos; Baron Porthos; couldn't-decide-if-he-was-a-priest-or-not-Sir Aramis; Crown Regent Lord Rickard, Duke of Ealdor (who was the King's older cousin and advisor and heir apparent); Lord Jermaine, Earl of Myarr (the King's younger half-brother); and the 501st Battalion, the rest of The King's Sentinels who fought alongside us for years.

What news the Sentinels brought back to Kyrria was discouraging indeed. Bamarre was overrun by the Gray Death Epidemic, and hordes of monsters terrorized the country. The king who ruled then was soft-spoken and foolish, and did nothing to protect his people or his two young daughters. He was also heartbroken; his wife was dying of the Gray Death. Interestingly enough, it was she who sent the message to Kyrria from her deathbed.

King Jerrold felt a duty to protect those who could not protect themselves, and so the war against the impossible began. For four years, Kyrrians fought on Bamarrian soil, and wherever the fighting was thickest, there you would find the King's Sentinels and the 501st. King Jerrold alternated between countries; either at the frontlines leading and exhorting his troops, or visiting his wife who ruled Kyrria wisely when he was gone.

I would've much rather sent her to Bamarre, then all those who died. According to her husband, Queen Daria's temper was fearsome to behold, giving her almost divine-like powers. Whether her 'powers' were fact or fiction, I still pitied the monsters or men who became her enemies.

* * *

Back to the story. After four years in Bamarre, where the battles lost outweighed all victories, the second request for military aid arrived. King Jerrold and his advisors got a notice that unrest was stirring along the borders between Greater Kulornia and Kyrria, and a border dispute was on the rise. The notice was more of a warning with scraps of both countries' national flags, considering the childish skull-and-crossbones sketches on the flag scraps.

They agreed that it was best to withdraw all Kyrrian armies when they received no response back from the king of Bamarre, and concentrate on the troubles closer to home.

It took almost two years for negotiations to be settled upon between Kyrria and Greater Kulornia. The process was nearly complete by the middle of the sixth year. But then something important happened.

Me.

I am merely joking. But that was the year that changed the rest of my life. That was the year that, through a series of unfortunate events and court intrigues, my father died, and I met the three most famous (or was it infamous?) King's Sentinels. Count Athos, Baron Porthos, and Aramis, who was decidedly a priest and 'retired' from military service at that time, were renowned amongst men. They took me under their wing at the barracks of the King's Sentinels after some simple misunderstandings were resolved and we stopped trying to kill each other. I thought Athos killed my father (he didn't), Athos thought I slept with his wife Lady Winter (a kiss from her doesn't count), Porthos and Aramis both thought I stole some royal papers from King Jerrold regarding the border dispute (Lady Winter stole them and framed me), and I thought Porthos and Aramis were pursuing me and trying to kill me simply out of spite (they weren't- mostly).

Aramis' pacifist ideals certainly didn't prevent him from swinging his sword at me when he had the chance. And I didn't dare go near Porthos' fists or Athos' general anything. Porthos was a walking war behemoth, but Athos was silent and unpredictable as a panther, and that made him the most dangerous of all.

Much can happen in six months. Despite our differences, we became the best of friends. Brothers. They trained me to become a better warrior and to improve my senses for espionage. They even took me to the palace on some of their visits to court. I met King Jerrold and Queen Daria, who were delightful people, and their relatives, Crown Regent Lord Rickard and Lord Jermaine, half-brother of the King. They were fellow Sentinels alongside me, and even I could not best them at times. Lord Rickard took himself too seriously, I thought, but Lord Jermaine and I worked well together. He was around my age, only slightly older, and we could relate to one another. I also met General Tristan himself when he bestowed upon me the rank of a King's Sentinel after I defeated most of the seasoned swordsmen in the 501st, and held off the Big Three alone for a good amount of time. That was a very, very good day.

It didn't last too long though. Near the last month of the sixth year, Greater Kulornia finally reached a good point in the 2 year negotiations, and accepted the terms to settle the border dispute once and for all. Kyrrians heard the news and relaxed. Soldiers were able to come home and be with their families. Perhaps there would be no more war.

During this time, I met my wife, who, alas, was married to another man, and was a lady-in-waiting of Queen Daria. Lady Constance Eleanor Bonacieux was her name, in court known as "Lady Eleanor". I may or may have not kissed her in the streets of the capital while Porthos and Aramis were chasing me for those damned papers. I didn't even know who she was, I simply needed a distraction, and by Biddle, she was a gorgeous one. She hated me on sight (or at least pretended to), her green eyes like emerald flames. I, however, remembered the kiss and kept seeing her in court because of training and ongoing investigations involving the King's Sentinels. It was inevitable then, really, that I fell head over heels in love.

I felt sorry for Athos at this point in life. He had always struggled with drinking, and was swinging between missions with us and drowning himself in alcohol and sorrow. He was still in love with his ex-wife, Lady Winter, who had been convicted of stealing the border dispute papers. She refused to admit who paid her to do it, and was put in prison to await her trial and possible execution. Lady Winter disappeared overnight, her sentence was changed to exile-and-recapture-on-sight, and Athos was predictably heartbroken. She had gotten what she deserved; no one bothered to mention that it was Athos on guard duty that night when she broke out.

* * *

On the first day of the seventh year, in January, a third request for major assistance from the Crown arrived at the palace. Only this time, it was about trouble from within Kyrria itself. A conspiracy to take the throne was afoot, and possibly connected to the border unrest issues.

What ensued was a year-long investigation with many small battles fought undercover against mysterious hired soldiers and insurrectionists. Which kingdom they were from wasn't made clear. Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and I were dispatched numerous times by King Jerrold to pursue a spy, who we were certain existed but vanished like smoke every time we got close.

For some reason, a certain fairy took a liking to me and often appeared to me in the most inopportune times. She offered information on the conspirators in exchange for a kiss (or more, she implied). Maybe she intended to bind me to her with her fairy voodoo, and enchant me so we could live in a bower together. Luckily I was already in love, and wanted one woman only. But we needed whatever information we could get our hands on, and so I enlisted Aramis' help in tricking her. I couldn't get Porthos to do it, as he already had Finna, a steady mistress of 10 months. Athos was hopelessly devoted to Lady Winter and was out of the question. But Aramis unashamedly went through numerous flings in a year, and definitely enjoyed kissing a fairy.

The information we received from the furious fairy wasn't as direct as we hoped. Only brief clues guided us to look closer within our own armies and the court as well. One random hint directed us to nearby Ayortha, who had been watching and observing the past seven years of turmoil. King Jerrold sent us as emissaries of Kyrria to the Ayorthian court, to politely ask if King Oscaro had political unrest or issues regarding treachery in the land like we had, and ask for any help or advice that he could spare.

Thankfully, the king of Ayortha understood and agreed to assist Kyrria, if we helped him as well. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, concept. There had been some recent arrests of certain people who were stirring up trouble. He and his military force were beyond confused though, because the insurrectionists kept escaping from prison. Athos took one look at the cells they were kept in, and declared that they had not broken _out_ \- someone else was breaking _into_ the prison and letting the prisoners free. When asked how he knew that, Athos abruptly replied that he'd seen it before.

A breach in security like this was cause for extreme concern. Being a peaceful country in general, with no wars marring their record for centuries, Ayortha possessed an army but no specialized forces. So we waited to hear orders from General Tristan... mostly. The messenger boy who brought the General's letter blinked twice when he found the King's Sentinels in the courtyard, completely saddled and armed to the teeth. We hadn't even read the letter yet (all it said was ' _Begin_ ', our go-ahead to start authorized investigations).

We knew our General and King too well.

Lady Constance Eleanor and I became closer, as she was accidently-on-purpose involved in many of our schemes or targeted by our enemies. That might've been my fault. She and I tried to distance ourselves from each other to no avail, and snuck a few kisses in secret. Her husband, who suspected something between us, threatened me and then proceeded to stalk me all the way to Ayortha. He showed up when I was tracking down one of the Ayorthian insurrectionist escapees, near the end of the seventh year. I suppose he was trying to kill me, before he was killed. He tried to interfere with a stand-off between me and my adversary, and was shot with a crossbow bolt in the heart.

Oh, the irony. I did feel guilty afterwards, as I had loved his wife while he lived, and he died in a fight that I was somewhat responsible for.

She did not deserve to hear the news through a letter. I received permission for a few days' leave, and found her in court once I got back to Kyrria. Lady Constance Eleanor, however, was shocked and confused and hurt at the news of her husband's death. I don't think she quite knew what to do. She declared she didn't want to see me anymore, and that was that.

Ouch. My temper got the better of me, and I said some things I probably shouldn't have, then left. I couldn't help myself though, and checked to see if there was anyone who could be there to assist and protect the Lady. I did so quietly because Constance would have my head if she heard. Queen Daria assured me that she would look out for her, as Constance was already under her charge as a lady-in-waiting.

I left the palace for Ayortha swiftly after because I couldn't stand the look of pity the Queen gave me.

* * *

Much had happened in the few days I was absent. Apparently, Aramis nearly started an international incident when his months-long affair with King Oscaro's cousin was discovered. Her father was not happy, and took himself and his daughter to a country estate far from court. We scolded him, and then shrugged. Aramis did what Aramis wanted to do, and nothing short of killing him would stop him. Not even a court martial or the removal of his rank in the King's Sentinels would phase him, as half the time he didn't want to be a Sentinel anyway.

Porthos had worked wonders with his street connections and a little persuasion with gold KJs and Ayorthian currency. After investigating for a few more months, he found out about a spy network that had couriers running to and fro between Ayortha and Kyrria. He dug deeper and revealed that the network had history connecting back to the border disputes in Greater Kulornia almost two years ago. The couriers were the ones who gave the mysterious hired soldiers orders from a leader, and were also the ones who had been freeing the troublesome insurrectionists.

Lord Jermaine had a large pocketbook, shall we say, and was very generous in donating funds for Porthos' efforts. Those who wouldn't talk on their own or under pressure would usually respond to the right amount of gold. He knew exactly how to manipulate the love of money. If the informant was an insurrectionist prisoner or discovered to have hidden connections with the conspiracy, Lord Jermaine gleefully took the gold back after doing his duty as a Sentinel (which meant arresting or killing them). It was hilarious and terrible to watch at the same time. Blood money was still money, however, and was used elsewhere as needed. Despite his usefulness on the frontlines, as one of the highest-ranking nobles and half-brother of the King, he had to split his time between The King's Sentinels and advising meetings at home. He was a clever companion, and I would miss him when he left soon for Kyrria.

What was more, we now knew that we were looking for a female spy, who was the head of the network. Porthos could be brutal with his fists, but when we needed an interrogation, Lord Rickard was the man of the hour. He possessed skills like none I had ever seen before to intimidate, trick, charm, and basically convince our enemies to talk. It was too bad that he had to return to Kyrria with Lord Jermaine to fulfill his duties as Crown Regent and advisor to King Jerrold; but at least we had a lead to investigate.

Athos, as the next highest ranking man in the army, was Captain of the King's Sentinels and functioned as our leader in their absences. Not that it was different from any other time of serving with him; he had always been the Captain, and always been our fearless, calm leader. But he yielded respectfully to the opinions of those in greater authority when they were present in our ranks.

Speaking of insurrectionists, they weren't as much of a problem now. Except for one or two that slipped through our fingers in the middle of the night, the combination of Ayorthian and specialized Kyrrian forces slowed the number of prison breaks. The spy network was obviously having a hard time of it, as their actions became desperate.

The eighth year began. The King's Sentinels decided to set traps for the lead spy, but she was getting inside information somehow. All of our traps were sprung. When King Jerrold and General Tristan asked for updates, we were frustrated beyond belief and couldn't give an answer.

Then the king of Ayortha said something that made us feel very foolish. We had totally overlooked the fact that the rumors of treachery and political unrest started in the _Kyrrian_ court, after the negotiations with Greater Kulornia ended. Whoever was behind the scenes running things took advantage of King Jerrold's helpful and compassionate nature, and knew that he would send soldiers wherever they were needed. Over the last seven or eight years, large amounts of Kyrrian soldiers had been displaced because of war. Some of the more wealthy ones had put down temporary roots between battles, and their families and friends immigrated to join them, too many people to track. We realized that this was the beginning of the infamous spy network. The simple solution was to take Kyrria out of the equation, and let Ayorthian soldiers continue to investigate. Even though there were Ayorthian spies, information would be less likely to be shared, as the spy network thrived upon Kyrrian influence. Perhaps the spy would get careless if no opportunities were available.

As sensible as his suggestion was, I felt sorry for King Oscaro. Both sides took offense at once.

Being the stubborn King's Sentinels that we were, we refused at first. It was hard to face the facts and hear how our king and leaders made a mistake, even if they were trying to help. It wasn't easy to know that we played a key part in the whole mess, even if we were simply men following orders. Guilt by association, after all. And what did Ayortha know about espionage and war? Their last major war was 250 years ago, and they didn't even have an elite military force like us.

In turn, the soldiers of Ayortha grew angry. Couldn't the Sentinels accept that people make mistakes, and just move on to the most important issue? Which, in fact, was solved by their king, if only we would listen. As for espionage and war, they declared that though they seemed to have little experience and no elite army, they had learned much from observing other countries' squabbles in the past 250 years. They were fine soldiers who did their jobs well, were fast learners from the time they'd spent with us, and could hold their own in a fight. Did we think they were totally incompetent, or were we afraid of losing control of the situation?

We swallowed our pride and conceded the point.

The King's Sentinels withdrew from the garrisons and prisons, and moved to live once again in the Emissary Quarters in the capital. I guess that the Ayorthian soldiers were eager to prove themselves to us, after what was said in the courtroom argument, because they took charge of the entire mission with such intensely quiet enthusiasm it was laughable.

Only Athos, as Captain, would be notified of every new detail in the investigation. He, in turn, informed General Tristan, who informed King Jerrold, who informed his advisors and everyone else. Though we hated it, the rest of us Sentinels and the 501st Battalion were kept in the dark, but had to be ready for action at a moment's notice if they caught the main spy. It was necessary, to prevent the spread of information amongst Kyrrians.

* * *

Weeks passed with no word. Aramis was perfectly happy, he simply couldn't stay away from King Oscaro's cousin, who had somehow used her wiles to worm her way back into court (and into his bed). Not wanting another international fall out, we encouraged him to be discreet. Porthos loved gambling, and hosted card and dice games with all soldiers who wished to participate. He beat us soundly time and time again, except for the one time when I had a lucky hand.

I had to run for my life when Porthos chased me through the Ayorthian palace, waving his sword like a maniac and bellowing that I cheated. I might've switched the cards when he wasn't looking; not the wisest choice I've ever made.

Something was up with Athos though. He played some with the card groups, and laughed so hard you could tell it was forced. Pensive and withdrawn weren't strange behaviors to associate with him; in fact, they were typical. But he took it to a whole other level. He had begun drinking a lot again, after a year or two of normalcy. Athos handled his liquor well, so it was odd to see him get extremely drunk, night after night. The only times I remembered this happening was whenever he was drowning in memories of _her_. His former wife-turned-traitor, Lady Winter.

I still can't see why or how he loved that tyrannical harpy. Yes, she was quite beautiful and accomplished, and a good kisser from what I remembered (not that I'd _ever_ tell Athos), but dangerous and spiteful as hell. She desired power, excitement, and riches, and would do anything to get them; which sometimes overtook her strong desire for Athos. He, in turn, was a powerful, wealthy count who loved a challenge and was gone a lot as a Sentinel on the King's business. He was not only powerful in rank, but in appearance as well. Athos had a ferocious temper that lurked underneath his calm, silent exterior. I always observed that he was like a snake that you didn't know had bitten you, until you died from the bite.

Between the two of them, they utterly completed one another, utterly destroyed their marriage, and became a tragic love story, the most talked-about scandal in court. I believe they deserved each other.

Despite my opinions of _her_ , I wasn't going to abandon my friend and brother to his grief. I sat down on some evenings and shared wine with him, offering to hear him out if he needed to talk.

Forget friendship and brotherhood, Athos wasn't ready. My self-preservation won out after a few nights of painful drunken punches, and I stopped asking.

When I wasn't keeping an eye on Aramis' exploits, alternately running away from or wrestling with Porthos (who now thought I cheated in _all_ card games), or watching Athos drink himself silly, I was writing Lady Constance Eleanor. I finally got the courage to write her a letter, apologizing for my harsh words and behavior four months ago in Kyrria, and inquired how she was doing.

She responded back with a brief message, accepting my apology, and asked how the investigation in Ayortha was going, and if we were safe. The floodgates opened, and soon letters traveled fast and thick between us for two months. I felt that we were quickly returning back to the way things were, before her husband died. Our words became less stilted and formal, and the letters got longer. Constance admitted that she shut me out during her mourning period, because she was confused and frightened, and needed time to think. I in turn confessed that I was a coward, and couldn't let go of my pride for the sake of our friendship.

I think we both knew, though, that this relationship had always been much more than a friendship. From the start two years ago, I loved Constance, even when she was married and told me she couldn't love me. Yet now it seemed like she was more open to the idea. The letters we exchanged began to reflect this, when we talked of "our" letters, "our" relationship, and "our" mutual friends. I asked to court her through correspondence, given that I wasn't there in person (and we had been on that track for months). She said yes.

More letters were written. By Biddle, I was surprised one day when she wrote me, asking and teasing if that argument we had was "our first big fight". I couldn't stop smiling, she made us sound like an official couple.

Then she topped that by stating, no, scratch that notion. According to Constance, our first big fight was when I kissed her as a stranger on the streets of Kyrria's capital, and she kneed me in an unmentionable spot. She never forgot about that kiss plus others we briefly shared, and hoped that we could experiment with that part of our relationship in the years to come.

 _Years to come_. I gaped at the page, and re-read it again while laughing deliriously. And again. And again. Ah, my beautiful, plain-spoken Constance Eleanor. If that wasn't a hint for me to move forward in our relationship and ask for her hand in marriage, I don't know what was.

Since I happened to be reading my letter in the common area of the Emissary Quarters during dinner, Porthos looked at me in concern when I started laughing. And kept laughing. While I reassured him that I was not going insane, Aramis stole my letter and read it, his eyebrows and signature grin rising. I managed to snatch it from him, but not before he waved it under Athos' nose, who wasn't drunk yet.

I should've been paying attention when Athos put his cup down and nodded slightly. Before I could escape, they dragged me out of the dining hall, intent on giving me an embarrassing man-to-man chat about Constance, marriage, and women.

Those Sentinels from the 501st who remained in the dining hall had seen me shout and struggle, and asked me if I was alright when I returned. I was grinning like an idiot, and Constance was the only thing on my mind. To this day, I'm still not sure how I answered them.

* * *

My happiness was quickly sobered by the realities of life. The next day, which was in October of the 8th year, three months after the Ayorthian soldiers had taken charge of the spy network investigation, Athos strode in and announced that the King's Sentinels needed to leave immediately for the nearest garrison. The Ayorthians had captured the desperate head spy, after months of subterfuge and hard work.

We arrived at the garrison, which was in disarray. Troops were on high alert, and I counted about ten to fifteen bodies covered with white sheets. The captain of the garrison, who approached us on entry, did not escape unscathed, as he had his arm in a sling and red marks on his left cheek. His men had similar injuries. He talked a little of the spy whilst we were en route to her cell; apparently she put up quite the vicious fight before the Ayorthian soldiers overwhelmed her in sheer numbers.

Rounding the corner, we got the shock of our lives. There, sitting primly in the cell with a cold smile, mussed hair, and bound hands, was Lady Winter.

Those of us who knew her turned pale, because we thought we'd never see her again. Athos, however, didn't look surprised at all. I shivered when I saw the look he gave the Lady. He managed to convey murderous hate, love, and heartbrokenness all in a single glance.

He knew. Thinking back on his behavior the past three months, I knew that he had known or suspected that she was the head spy for a while. It explained his automatic conclusion that someone was helping prisoners escape (for he had helped _her_ escape the first time she was arrested, years ago, and recognized the method she used), his depression, and the excessive drinking.

The next three days were filled with her interrogation. She refused to speak, giving up nothing, and laughed at her interrogators. Athos hadn't said a word, and holed himself up in his room. We informed General Tristan and King Jerrold that the head spy was caught, and that likely the spy network would die out very soon, if we kept at it. A trial was scheduled (we all knew what the outcome would be) in a week's time, to allow for travel, at a place close to the borders of Kyrria and Ayortha. Both countries' monarchs and military forces would be present, as well as some representatives from Greater Kulornia and the public, because the Lady was a very important prisoner.

Day of the trial dawned. We sat sullenly with the Kyrrian delegation, watching as Lady Winter received a verdict. For defying a previous court sentence, aiding the enemy through espionage, having arrest warrants from three different kingdoms, stealing royal papers, withholding information on the conspiracy, and ruthlessly killing numerous soldiers and civilians in cold blood, she was declared guilty. As a traitor and a dangerous criminal, she would hang in the morning.

Porthos had a meaty hand on Athos' shoulder the entire time, and Aramis and I were tense, knowing our friend's temper too well. This was the trial of his once-beloved wife, and there was no telling what he might do now that she was basically a dead woman walking. But Athos remained stone-faced. I don't think I've ever seen him cry, and the trial was no different.

When we got back to the Emissary Quarters, we followed him to his room, afraid of what he might do to himself. He raged, punching us and the walls and everything else, then sat on his bed, clutching bleeding knuckles.

For the first time, Athos wept.

We accompanied him in the early morning to her cell. Before the hanging, he wanted to see her one last time.

Lady Winter's proud attitude wavered when he came in and tried to talk to her. She lashed back at him with anger and tears. When they came to get her, he asked her if she ever loved him. She answered 'Yes' softly, and caressed his face with a tenderness I didn't know she possessed. He then stated if she claimed to, she would tell him something, anything, about the spy network or the Kyrrian conspiracy.

I thought that was a mistake on Athos' part, when the proud, spiteful glare reappeared on her face. But then the Lady opened her mouth.

Beware, she said, of your friends in high places, who desire the throne of Kyrria. If we looked closer to home, there we would find what we sought. Gold and fear, they kept those who would speak otherwise silent, and we had not cut off the head of the serpent, but the tail. There were always traitors, and if we didn't want to die in our beds, we had better catch them...

Then Lady Winter was taken away for execution, her head held high, proud and fine breeding to the last. Athos looked like he was the one walking to the gallows.

* * *

Preparations to return to Kyrria began immediately after her hanging. If there were any more spies or traitors in Ayortha, they certainly didn't show themselves. King Oscaro and his soldiers reassured us that they had things under control, and we left the rest of that investigation in their capable hands. Keeping Lady Winter's cryptic message in mind, we turned our faces towards Kyrria. Not only were the King's Sentinels ready to find out who the ultimate traitor was, but we terribly missed our families and friends after eight years and ten months of war. It was time to go home.

The capital's riotous celebrations lasted for a week. King Jerrold, Queen Daria (who had just recently had a baby boy), and General Tristan congratulated us all on our fine work in Ayortha. Athos attended the balls out of duty, trying his best to avoid the admirers. Porthos happily danced with his mistress Finna, and all the admirers (ladies specifically) avoided him, seeing as he was 'taken'. If they didn't, often times they tripped over an unseen foot or ran accidently into Finna's fist. Aramis, as usual, had a fawning crowd following him all week, and disappeared at random times. I'm not sure I ever want to know why he left or what he was doing.

As for me, I was deliriously happy to see Lady Constance Eleanor again, and she to see me. I danced or tripped through most of the sets with her, in awe of her beauty, and talked to her the rest of the time, probably disappointing a few admirers (I did see groups of them hovering out of the corner of my eye). Except for breaks in which we had to talk, dance, and socialize with others for the sake of politeness, we never strayed from each other's side.

On the last day, I escaped the ballroom and brought Constance with me. We walked through the palace gardens, laughing at the memory of our friends' faces as they either searched for us or spotted us sneaking out. There, in a small alcove with colorful moonflowers curling about an wrought-iron gate, I asked her to marry me.

She said yes, absolutely.

News spread quickly among the peerage and the court. Even though we followed tradition, our future union was considered somewhat scandalous because Constance was a Lady of the court, with excellent connections; I was only a knight in the King's Sentinels, son of a tradesman.

Constance and I didn't care. In the three months before our wedding, I brushed up on what I knew of trade and business with Aramis, and added to my accounts. He was an excellent teacher, if you didn't count the fact that he could effortlessly charm most merchants or shop-girls out of their wares. I tried to deal honestly, when it suited me, and had a small fortune by the time of the wedding. I wanted to get a gift for Constance.

We were married in January of the 9th year, in the old castle near Frell. King Jerrold and Lord Jermaine had lived there as young boys, but it was not in use now except for special events. Afterwards, when we had said thank-yous and goodbyes to all of our friends and guests (some of the locals came too, they always loved a party, as well as a few fairies), we got in the wedding carriage. I began directing us towards the edge of Frell, hoping my new wife liked my surprise. She looked puzzled at first, as twenty minutes passed, and I still hadn't told her where we were going. As we rounded a bend, she gasped.

My wedding gift to Constance was a small manor estate, complete with a beautiful country manor house.

All restraint gone, she tackled me joyfully in the carriage, not that I was complaining. But I'm sure the shriek she let loose was heard for miles around.

* * *

We had almost one whole glorious year to enjoy ourselves, and to learn about our new manor. Constance helped to run the household, which included hired help and servants, with a firm yet gentle hand. She did so with the assistance of our new housekeeper and head cook Mandy, an older woman who took care of my wife in her previous home. I split my time between home, merchant trade, and the garrison in the capital, training with the King's Sentinels. Even though Queen Daria had given Constance (her lady-in-waiting) permission to come and go whenever she wanted, my wife also traveled with me and visited with the Queen, as they were close. Trade and business with merchants were good, and with my commission, we became wealthy.

Our estate was filled with love and laughter. Constance held banquets every now and then, and had friends from town, court, or nearby estates that would call at the manor house; my brothers-in-arms visited as much as they could. Aramis never visited, because he finally made up his mind to be a priest and set off for a secluded compound in regions unknown.

At one point, I was glad our friends weren't present at the manor. I might've accidently sold one of Constance's favorite vases that was her mother's, to a merchant that I was trying to bargain with. The vase was brought out to be an example, but in the mess of haggling it got thrown into the merchant's pile. That was the last time I saw that vase. Understandably, my wife didn't talk to me for three days.

In November of the 9th year, the fourth request for military aid came. This time, the request was from the king of Bamarre's youngest daughter, Princess Addie. Apparently she was on a quest to defeat the Gray Death and monsters of the land, and felt that the fulfillment of a prophecy was near, which would deliver Bamarre. She wanted us to help by sending our troops to a most distant town, where the fabled fairy kingdom Mount Ziriat was said to be located, and where she would save her sister Princess Meryl. Princess Meryl had the Gray Death.

King Jerrold and his advisors debated over what to do. On one hand, the poor girl had almost no support from her own people. They cowardly followed her father's example for the most part, and did nothing except hide in their homes. She was alone in her quest. The town that she wanted us to meet her at was in the northernmost corners of the kingdom, and was only a name in a legend to us. Furthermore, the last time Kyrrian forces were in Bamarre was six years ago, and they couldn't defeat the enemy. Bamarre was surely a wasteland now.

On the other hand, the prophecy Princess Addie spoke of was uttered by a specter. This alone was unbelievable, as specters were notorious liars. But if they were caught, as the one who told the prophecy was, specters had to tell the truth. So following logic, the specter prophecy was true.

Princess Addie must've known that we would doubt her story. Her letter proved that the prophecy was true with simple facts. Right before she started her quest and during it, several specters appeared to her, and predicted something about courage and the Gray Death. These were extremely similar to the first prophecy. As she neared the end, where she was currently waiting for us, she found a town with magical healing water only known in legends, which was the only place where people never got sick with the Gray Death. A portion of the townspeople, who had a cowardly reputation, agreed to fight alongside her for a final battle.

I thought it sounded like too much of a coincidence, because so many specters appeared to Princess Addie, and spoke of the same thing. She was by the one source that could cure the Gray Death, and saw its effects in person. And the original specter also prophesied that the kingdom would be saved when "cowards find courage and rain (maybe the townspeople and their magical water?) falls over all Bamarre".

General Tristan and our king made the final decision. With heavy hearts dreading another war, the King's Sentinels, the 501st Battalion, and half our troops departed for Bamarre.

* * *

We waded our way through hordes of monsters and ghost towns with dead bodies. The very land hated us, it seemed, as delays popped up everywhere. Finally, we met Princess Addie and her soldiers near the legendary town, which was definitely more than legendary now. It looked real enough.

I could see why she wanted us to come. Her group was extremely small, with poor weapons. Most of them had no training for war. The only one who looked like he had experience was the sorcerer accompanying her. The princess herself was somewhat shy, but she put on a brave face that was very convincing and very inspiring, considering her circumstances.

She also made the stupidest decision that made me wonder if we'd made the wrong choice in coming. I mean, who brings their sick, dying sister to a potential battlefield?

Apparently, only if your sister was Princess Meryl. I met her briefly, and it was enough to realize that Princess Meryl was not the type of girl who took 'No' for an answer. She was even carrying a sword, for Biddle's sake, while wrapped in a blanket and shivering! She had two days to live.

Speaking of, we all shivered when Princess Addie told us of the enemy. There were some particular creatures on that side whom she managed to enrage quite spectacularly during her quest. Specifically, the ogre king, the gryphon herds, and a female dragon wanted her dead. Curious as to the story, General Tristan asked her why.

The ogre king? She accidently kicked him and all his friends in their ugly faces on her way home. One even smacked into a tower.

The gryphon herds? She murdered them with a tablecloth (how?...) on the way to find said female dragon.

The female dragon? She made the dragon like her art and sewing and witty conversations, before gutting her with a sword during escape.

Princess Addie answered everything with a straight face. Even though her answers were truth, we all burst out laughing. Her sister and the sorcerer stood by with pleased expressions.

We needed that laugh, because everyone became nervous. _Dragons and death_ , they whispered. _Dragons and death_. For all of Kyrria's experience in war, we had never faced dragons before. They simply weren't in the territory.

That changed when the enemy arrived suddenly. It was the middle of February, the 10th year. Athos, Porthos, and I rode into battle along with King Jerrold and General Tristan and fellow soldiers. Monsters charged into the valley from every direction. There weren't just the promised ogres, gryphons, and dragons, but also wraiths, hags, minotaurs, werewolves, vampires, and other horrible things. Vollys, the dragon who wanted Princess Addie dead, alternated between roasting our troops and throwing them with her tail. She was beautiful and clever, but enormous and deadly. It was almost a shame we had to kill such a creature.

Princess Meryl had one more night to live, and was determined to go down fighting, literally. I turned in the middle of the battle, once, and saw her. I was surprised, as she seemed to get a second wind of sorts, and was slicing through enemies right and left. I blinked. Sick as she was, the girl knew how to handle a blade. Princess Meryl looked like a nightmare come to life though. Blood that wasn't hers was smeared across her face and nightgown, her face (or what part that wasn't covered in blood) was pale, and dark purple circles were under her eyes. Her teeth were bared as she laughed at her enemies, high and shrill.

It was absolutely terrifying. I had to look away from her and concentrate on the battle as goose bumps erupted across my skin.

The battle took a turn for the worst when the sun rose. Princess Addie defeated the dragon with her sister's help, and was trapped underneath the dying body. General Tristan, Athos, Porthos, and I could do nothing. We were fighting in the fierce battle. For whatever reason, Princess Meryl didn't make it to the healing water, and collapsed.

Then the fairies from Mount Ziriat arrived. Rain fell while they helped drive away the remaining monsters. In our awe and confusion, we didn't notice General Tristan until it was too late.

He was on his knees, surrounded by bodies, coughing up blood. Four arrows were embedded deep in his armor.

I was shocked and saddened. How could such a great warrior be felled?

He was taken by surprise, evidently- by Kyrrian soldiers. With his final words, General Tristan spat out that in the thick of the battle, men from our own forces had started to shoot arrows at his back. He avoided some arrows and was hit by the rest, but not before he killed them all.

What was more, one of the traitors had yelled to him that he had a message for King Jerrold. His death was only the beginning, and something greater was coming. King Jerrold's throne was taken in a coup, and by now, Queen Daria and 2-year-old Prince Charmont should've been kidnapped.

He died in the King's arms.

Frantic and furious, we didn't hesitate when King Jerrold prepared us to leave immediately. There was no time to bury our dead. We didn't see any trace of Princess Addie or Meryl, but the fairies assured us that they were alright and had things under control. So we left.

* * *

Riding for the capital, we found the palace in an uproar. Indeed, a coup had occurred, and was staged by none other than Lord Rickard. He manipulated the people to think that after three months, with no sign of us who were in Bamarre, he should be in power. He took the throne of Kyrria after he kidnapped the Queen and the Prince, and had been in power for almost a month. He forced the other half of the troops that were left in the kingdom to support him. Most were unwilling, but after the first few executions, they obeyed for the safety of themselves and their families. The Queen tried to do something, but quieted down after he threatened her son's life.

With our arrival, rebellion spread amongst the soldiers. They fought back against Rickard and his supporters, and helped the King's Sentinels and the 501st to get back control of the palace.

Queen Daria, Prince Charmont and her ladies-in-waiting were in the dungeons below the castle, but we didn't find them there. We ran into them in the corridors as we fought our way towards the throne room. They had broken out of their cells.

Constance, beautiful clever woman that she was, used a trick that I'd seen us King's Sentinels use many times on locked doors to escape. She was taken captive along with the Queen and her other ladies. However, the guards underestimated her. I was so relieved to see her; but our reunion had to wait.

We finally cornered Lord Rickard in the throne room. Even with our swords at his throat, he smiled and taunted us. He was the one who ordered General Tristan to be killed, and caused the past 6 years of war so he could sit on the throne. If we killed him, he mentioned that there were others who would carry on his plans. He pretended affection for the rest of us King's Sentinels, secretly hating the way things were run.

Tempers ran high because of the depth of betrayal. Lord Rickard was one of our brothers-in-arms, or so we thought. I'm sure that I wasn't the only one wanting to run him through. But as a former King's Sentinel and citizen of Kyrria, he was allowed a fair trial. We tried to arrest him, knowing he wouldn't come quietly. Before we could lay our hands on him, he rushed waving a dagger at his younger cousin, King Jerrold. Maybe he figured he could kill the king or be killed, so he wouldn't have to go through interrogation.

The commotion ended. Several of us were sliced by the blade, but the King was not murdered, so everything was fine.

That is, until we saw Lord Rickard's body slump to the floor. Lord Jermaine knelt over his body with a bloody sword, looking down at his cousin sadly.

Nothing could be done, of course. Rickard had tried to kill the King, in any case, and Lord Jermaine did his duty as a King's Sentinel.

We began organizing and cleaning up the palace, with heavy hearts. Funerals were held for the fallen in battle, including General Tristan. We were grieved for his absence, as he was a wise leader for the King's Sentinels. King Jerrold mourned deeply; he had just lost two members of his family. Lord Rickard was his older cousin who brought him up from when he was a boy, but Tristan was his right-hand man. They were close as brothers.

For a month, the citizens of Kyrria recovered. It was March of the 10th year when King Jerrold and Queen Daria sensed that kingdom morale needed a boost. Their solution? To invite everyone to a honors ceremony and a week of balls in the capital, of course, to mark the end of ten years at war. How else did Kyrrians know how to celebrate?

All of Kyrrian's soldiers were honored at the ceremony for their service. Some numbers were promoted and added to the King's Sentinels. Speaking of which, we in the Sentinels and the 501st Battalion all received promotions in lands and titles. Those who were already lords or someone of station received awards and medals, and were just as valued.

Athos was promoted to General of the King's Sentinels. Aramis came back from wherever he secluded himself, having missed out on all the action. Probably because he knew there would be some benefit for him. Regardless, who knows how he got an invitation.

I accepted my new rank as a Count. Constance was extremely pleased, and proceeded to show me how much after the ceremony. Then, between dances at the first ball, she surprised me with some news.

She was pregnant.

 _Pregnant_. She was going to have a _baby_. I was going to be a _father_.

 _A father!_

Fear, love, and pride knocked me to my knees, as I began rambling to Constance. I was going to be a father! How could I be a good father though? I knew nothing of children, I was a warrior, and my father, who was gone a lot for trade, died when I was a young man. What if I wasn't? What if our child hated me? When would our child be born? Was it alright?

My wife laughed and calmed my worries. She was four months along, and had a while longer. But we still needed to discuss names and room arrangements for the baby. We hadn't talked about it much in the past year, as we were newly married, but I knew Constance loved and wanted children. I had seen her get _the look_ \- you know, the one women get when they ask to hold their friends' babies and take care of them. Now her dream came true.

We shared the happy news with our friends. King Jerrold and Queen Daria cheered up a bit, and hoped that we would present our child in court when the time came. Athos, Porthos, and Aramis clapped me on the back and said they would give us the first years with our child, as he or she would likely inherit Constance's stubbornness and my impulsiveness. Then they would swoop in as the fun-loving uncles and give the child the time of her life, unlike her parents would.

I shoved them aside roughly. It was all in good jest though. However, the tables were turned when Constance asked me if I would be there for our baby. I said yes, of course, as much as the orders from the Crown allowed me to (and she would've taken offense had I said no). I wanted to be around for our child as much as possible, and would love him or her no matter what. Even if he or she be part-giant, gnome, or ogre.

I suppose she took offense anyway when I said part-ogre. She punched me in the gut. I was still trying to catch my breath as our friends collapsed into their chairs, laughing.

We settled on a name by the end of the week. Alexandre, after my father, if the baby was a boy. Eleanor, after my wife, if the baby was a girl.

With that in my mind, I danced with Constance, and observed people as I socialized on the last night of the celebrations. Their faces reflected the candlelight and the happiness that seemed to be bubbling under the surface like champagne, glad as I was to be done with ten years of war. Was it worth it? Yes, definitely.

Worry slid off my shoulders as I thought of peace. No more war. No more watching my friends die in battle. No more court intrigues, at least not ones that endangered Kyrria. This was the kingdom that my son or daughter would live in, once they came into the world. After our hard work in countless battles, would this peaceful era last?

For my child's sake, I certainly hoped so.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ella Enchanted, any of Gail Carson Levine's works, or Musketeers. Simply trying to make my own magic in her world. Please donate a trunkful of gold KJs for every review!**

* * *

 _Chapter 1_

That fool of a fairy Lucinda did not intend to lay a curse on me. She meant to bestow a gift. When I cried inconsolably through my first hour of life, my tears were her inspiration. Shaking her head sympathetically at Mother, the fairy touched my nose. "What a beautiful baby, Lady Eleanor! I always knew that you and Count D'Artagnan would create wonderful little ones, even at your wedding. He is quite the specimen, and so are you, my dear."

Mother blushed, but still cocked an eyebrow at the blunt fairy. "Always knew, did you?"

Lucinda dramatically clasped a hand over her heart. "My Lady, you wound me! Even if I did hold an affection for your husband, that was years ago. No need to bring up the past."

Never mind that she just did.

"Just for that, I'm withholding my gift to your daughter for an entire five minutes! And that's a long time for me, you hear?" Lucinda became all pouting red lips and flashing white teeth then. "Thank you so much, by the way, for inviting me to the birth. Babies and brides are my specialty, you know."

"Yes, we know," Mandy, our head cook and housekeeper, muttered. Mother pasted a pleasant grin on her tired face. Her and Father hadn't invited Lucinda out of kindness, but courtesy.

See, according to the traditions of the land, fairies were usually invited to weddings and births. Whether noble or common, rich or poor, most Kyrrians desired the presence of a powerful being at their loved ones' celebrations. There was always a chance that the fairies would bestow a certain gift or talent upon a lucky individual.

It was also a tradition made centuries ago for the people's safety (and sanity). If someone forgot or intentionally neglected to invite a fairy to important events, the fairy might set a horrible curse on the unlucky person's head in revenge.

It happened before; a major example of this in the history books was Princess Sonora, a royal from the neighboring kingdom of Biddle (now Greater Kulornia) 400 years ago. Her parents invited twelve out of thirteen fairies in the land, who began gifting the baby princess with all sorts of talents, including outstanding cleverness. The parents, sadly, did not possess the intelligence of their newborn daughter, and forgot about the thirteenth fairy until she appeared in a fury. She cursed the daughter to prick her finger (on a spindle, of all things) when she was older and die. Another fairy softened this to become a deep sleep of 100 years instead of immediate death. In the end, the long sleep occurred, affecting the whole kingdom until a prince happened along and kissed Sonora. He broke the curse.

As a result, no one wanted to face the wrong end of a fairy's wand. Lucinda's especially, as she was acknowledged to be an eccentric fairy. Except for the rare case, people were very careful to follow tradition, my parents included. They might have ended up living as squirrels otherwise, knowing Lucinda and her fondness for the little rodents.

Three minutes had passed. I was crying still, in my mother's arms.

Mother shrank away slightly when Lucinda reached for me. "What a sweet, sweet baby. May I hold her, my Lady?"

It wasn't a question.

Once I was in Lucinda's arms, she frowned down at me. "Hmm, what to do for a gift... Really, do not cry, little one. Your mother is right here." She tried baby talk, a fairy lullaby, and scolding, but none of those worked. "Do stop, girl. I can't think!"

Rebellious from birth, I suppose, I kept howling louder and louder.

The fairy's frustrated brow smoothed over. "Aha, I know the perfect gift for her! My gift is obedience. Ella will always be obedient. Now stop crying, child."

I stopped.

Father was away on a scouting expedition with the King's Sentinels as usual, but Mandy was there. She and Mother were horrified, but no matter how they explained it to Lucinda, they couldn't make her understand the terrible thing she'd done to me. I could picture the argument: Mandy's freckles standing out sharper than usual, her frizzy black-gray hair in disarray, and her double chin shaking with anger; Mother still and intense, her brown curls damp from labor, the laughter gone from her green eyes.

"How dare you!" Mandy snapped, mopping Mother's forehead.

"You should be grateful!" Lucinda turned her nose delicately in the air.

Mother shook her head. "I- I am thankful, that you decided to give us such a gift, Lucinda. But do you have any idea what you have done?"

"Nonsense! I just solved all of your child's problems, and she'll be easy to manage from now on."

Mother kept placating Lucinda, but Mandy was fed up with the unregretful fairy and with a few choice words, told her to exit. Lucinda did so as only Lucinda could, gracefully and with a flourish (or so Mandy and Mother told me. Mother was quite the expert in mimicry).

I couldn't imagine Lucinda. I didn't know what she looked like, besides having pouty red lips and white teeth. That described half the harpies- ahem, excuse me, ladies- in the kingdom.

She refused to undo the curse.

* * *

My first awareness of it came on my fifth birthday. I seem to remember that day perfectly, perhaps because Mandy told the tale so often.

"For your birthday," she'd start, "I baked a beautiful cake. Six layers."

Bertha, our head maid, had sewn a special gown for me. "Blue as midnight with a white sash. You were small for your age even then, and you looked like a china doll, with a white ribbon in your black hair and your cheeks red from excitement."

In the middle of the table was a vase filled with roses that Nathan, our manservant, had picked.

We all sat around the table. (Father was away again, this time with trade talks on the border). I was thrilled. I had watched Mandy bake the cake and Bertha sew the gown and Nathan pick the flowers. Father had said he was coming back soon in his letters to Mother, and was bringing home a surprise for me.

Mandy cut the cake. When she handed me my piece, she said without thinking,

"Eat."

The first bite was delicious. I finished the slice happily. When it was gone, Mandy cut another. That one was harder. When it was gone, no one gave me more, but I knew I had to keep eating. I moved my fork into the cake itself.

"Ella, what are you doing?" Mother said.

"Little piggy." Mandy laughed. "It's her birthday, Lady. Let her have as much as she wants." She put another slice on my plate.

I felt sick, and frightened. Why couldn't I stop eating?

Swallowing was a struggle. Each bite weighed on my tongue and felt like a sticky mass of glue as I fought to get it down. I started crying while I ate.

Mother realized first. "Stop eating, Ella," she commanded.

I stopped.

I spent the rest of the evening in my bedroom, wondering what happened. Father's return and the present he handed me thankfully distracted me from my thoughts.

Anyone could control me with an order. It had to be a direct command, such as: "Put on a shawl," or "You must go to bed now." A wish or a request had no effect. I was free to ignore "I wish you would put on a shawl," or "Why don't you go to bed now?" But against an order I was powerless.

If someone told me to hop on one foot for a day and a half, I'd have to do it. And hopping on one foot wasn't the worst order I could be given. If you commanded me to cut off my own head, I'd have to do it.

I was in danger at every moment.

As I grew older, I learned to delay my obedience, but each moment cost me dear - in breathlessness, nausea, dizziness, and other complaints. I could never hold out for long. Even a few minutes were a desperate struggle.

I had a fairy godmother, and Mother asked her to take the curse away. But my fairy godmother said Lucinda was the only one who could remove it. However, she also said it might be broken someday without Lucinda's help.

But I didn't know how. I didn't even know who my fairy godmother was. I wished she would reveal herself to me, instead of letting me struggle. Maybe she thought the curse would help me learn things in personal growth.

Forget that. Fairies were utterly useless.

* * *

Instead of making me docile, Lucinda's curse made a rebel of me. Or perhaps I was that way naturally.

Mother rarely insisted I do anything, which was nice. Father and my Uncles Athos, Porthos, and Aramis knew nothing of the curse. They were around more often because the King's Sentinels had fewer missions for them; but Father still left with his steward Benny for trade and business deals, to increase the family fortune. To them, I was an obedient daughter and niece with a stubborn streak, who loved to play.

But Mandy was bossy, giving orders almost as often as she drew breath. Kind orders or for-your-own-good orders. "Bundle up, Ella." Or "Hold this bowl while I beat the eggs, sweet." Or "Don't get on the horse just yet, Ella, let me get Benny to help you" (Benny was her paramour). Those orders often fell my way because I happened to be hanging about in the kitchen with Mother, who never minded a bit of 'normal' work, as she told the maidservants. Mandy was always in the kitchen, being the head cook and housekeeper, and made it a place of warmth and fun.

I disliked these commands, harmless as they were. I'd hold the bowl, but move my feet so she would have to follow me around the kitchen. She'd call me minx and try to hem me in with more specific instructions, which I would find new ways to evade. Often, it was a long business to get anything done between us, with Mother laughing and egging each of us on by turn. In the stables, I never mounted the horses right. I think they tossed me off out of pity.

We'd end happily - with me finally choosing to do what Mandy wanted, or with Mandy changing her order to a request.

When Mandy would absentmindedly give me an order I knew she didn't mean, I'd say, "Do I have to?" And she'd reconsider.

* * *

When I was seven, I met an Ayorthian girl who was my age from a neighboring manor in Frell. Her name was Areida, and she had two older brothers and an adopted older sister whom I loved to hear her talk about; I had no siblings. Her family was visiting Kyrria for a few months to receive financial assistance from their wealthier relatives for a family business.

It didn't hurt that my mother was on intimate terms with the lady of the estate, who was an older noble of the court who had retired to the countryside, and also Areida's grandmother. Within the short time span we had, Areida and I became best friends.

When she had to leave the country, there were many hugs and tears on both sides. Neither one of us knew when we might see each other again, as her family had received the money they needed and were departing to set up a business in Ayortha.

As the coach drove away, Areida stuck her head out the window and yelled, "I'll miss you! Write me, Ella!"

That was one of the only orders that I followed faithfully without complaint.

* * *

When I was eight, I had a friend, Pamela, the daughter of one of the servants. She didn't like to read like I did, so we couldn't talk about much. However, we got along very well while cooking, something we both enjoyed.

One day she and I were in the kitchen, watching Mandy make marchpane. When Mandy sent me to the pantry for more almonds, I returned with only two. She ordered me back with more exact instructions, which I followed exactly, while still managing to frustrate her true wishes.

Later, when Pamela and I retreated to the garden to devour the candy, she asked why I hadn't done what Mandy wanted straight off.

"I hate when she's bossy," I answered.

Pamela said smugly, "I always obey my elders." Goody two-shoes.

"That's because you don't have to."

"I do have to, or Father will slap me."

I shivered. Stuck up or not, even Pamela didn't deserve to have anyone hit her. "It's not the same as for me. I'm under a spell." I enjoyed the importance of the words. Spells were rare. Lucinda was the only fairy in Kyrria rash enough to cast them often on people in public.

"Like Princess Sonora?" Pamela's eyes widened.

"Except I won't have to sleep for a hundred years."

"What's your spell?"

I told her.

"If anybody gives you an order, you have to obey? Including me?"

I nodded.

"Can I try it?"

"No!" I hadn't anticipated this. I changed the subject, feeling overwhelmed. "I'll race you to the gate."

"All right, but I command you to lose the race."

"Then I don't want to race."

"I command you to race, and I command you to lose."

We raced. I lost.

We picked berries. I had to give Pamela the sweetest, ripest ones. We played princesses and ogres. I had to be the ogre.

I felt more furious with every minute. An hour after my admission, I punched her. She screamed, and blood poured from her nose.

Our friendship ended that day. Mother found Pamela's mother a new situation far from our town of Frell. Mandy discovered a new woman willing to take her place in the household staff.

After punishing me for using my fist, Mother issued one of her infrequent commands. "Ella, darling, from here on out, never tell anyone about your curse. People will try to use it to hurt you."

"Like Pamela?"

"Yes, Ella." She watched me with sad eyes.

I wouldn't have anyway. I had learned caution.

When Father came home later that week from King Jerrold's court, he swung me into his arms. "How's my girl?! I heard you punched someone... in the nose." He glanced at Mother, who was also in the sitting room, stitching a sampler. A similar one that I discarded on the ground showed the past efforts of an hour, complete with mismatching threads and knots.

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Yes, Father, it was Pamela!"

"Good job!" Both he and I could sense my mother's glare from across the room. He tried to backtrack, "I mean, uh... no Ella, that was not a good thing, you shouldn't have done that!"

Mother turned to me, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Ella, go find Mandy? Your father and I have to talk about some things."

"Yes, Mother!" I chirped happily and trotted out the door, then leaned my ear against it. I was already feeling a bit dizzy from delaying, but I was sure that this would be worth it.

"D'Artagnan, I love you, but I cannot have you encouraging our daughter to become some sort of hooligan!"

There was a shuffling noise. "Love, I'm quite proud of her, actually. I don't know the full story, but it sounds like Ella was just defending herself and her personal space."

"Don't you _'Love'_ me, mister! She is starting to learn what it means to be a lady, it's hard enough as it is."

"Why, Connie, are you being so difficult?" Father called Mother 'Connie', one of his pet names for her and a tribute to her first name, in order to tell our names apart in conversations. "It's important for a girl to know how to defend herself from others. You know this personally too, it wasn't that long ago that I trained you-"

"Yes, but that's different! I was a grown woman. She's a young girl. I'd say you and her uncles can start training her when she's older. Not now."

A telling silence filled the air (cue guilty puppy-dog look from Father).

"WHAT!? You already told them about training her?"

"It was Porthos' idea first!"

The dizziness was too much to bear. As I turned to obey the command to find Mandy, Mother's exasperated voice echoed down the corridor.

"Porthos. Of course it was his idea first, he's a complete fighter. Athos is too deep in his cups sometimes to pay attention to what you say, and Aramis is too afraid of offending me to suggest anything of the sort. When he returns to the manor, I'm going to..."

Uncle Porthos was about to die. Imagining the look on her face, I giggled all the way back to the kitchen. So worth it.

* * *

Father and Mother finally agreed on a compromise when I turned nine. My training in the arts of weaponry and self-defense would begin on my 12th birthday. No earlier.

I was ecstatic. My stab-happy Uncles, on the other hand, were slightly disappointed that they didn't get to teach me yet. They comforted themselves by telling me fascinating stories of their adventures with Father and how they escaped their enemies.

However, in the meantime I had lessons. Father spent what time he had at home helping me learn dancing, and mathematics, from his trade and merchant business. The sitting room was alight with grunts of pain and laughter as I constantly trod on his toes. Because we were tight with money that year, instead of instructors, Mother and Mandy drilled me themselves in the basics of courtly female manners, sewing, music, reading, writing composition, history, geography, gardening, cooking, and cleaning. I asked about the last three.

"Mother, why do I have to learn about cooking and cleaning if we have servants?" I had heard talk amongst the daughters of the servants, some of whom were my friends and acquaintances, about their fellow servants' troubles in other homes. Some rich families never lifted a finger to help their staff.

She smiled indulgently at me. "Because, Ella, it's important for a lady never to think herself above others. She must also be prepared to lead the household in all matters, in case something happens. You don't have to do it all the time, don't worry."

"Oh, that's good then." I'm still not sure whether the 'something' she meant was marriage or death. My nine-year-old brain didn't think much of it at the time, so I just let the information sink in along with everything else I was taught.

They tried to make it fun for me. They really did. When I complained about the mop, and how squishy it was, Mother told me a story about her great-great-grandmother, who was quite possibly a fairy. She was an odd sort, apparently, and used her broom as transportation. The broom ends turned to mush because of all the enchantments on it. The mop that I was holding was that same broom.

I laughed; mopping wasn't so bad anymore.

Stair rail polishing became entertaining when Mother showed me how to slide down the banisters. The first time Bertha and Nancy caught me riding the rail alone, they hid their snickers behind their hands.

"Mistress Ella, what in Kyrria are you doing?" Bertha frowned, hands on her hips. Her mouth kept twitching upwards.

I pulled myself up from the mess of petticoats I had become on the floor. Then I put my hands on my hips just like Bertha. "Mistress Bertha, what in Kyrria are _you_ doing? _I_ am polishing the stair rails."

Smiling innocently, I tilted my nose in the air and walked away.

Cooking was interesting. The first few times I tried to bake bread, it flopped.

"Add more yeast, Ella," Mandy advised.

On my next attempt I tossed in an entire jar of yeast. Consequently, the oven door burst open, and the small loaf of dough I had placed there expanded into baked bread that filled a third of the kitchen.

Needless to say, there was sweet fresh bread for the entire manor for 2 months.

I was hopeless with a sampler. My thread always magically knotted itself, I couldn't seem to coordinate colors, and the patterns confused me. Strangely enough, when Mother switched to something new in desperation, I could sew dresses. If given a thread and needle, I could complete a basic hem stitch. Nothing else.

"We'll work on embroidery _much_ later," Mother gave me a relieved smile.

Mandy said it would take a miracle for me to learn female manners- the way a lady walks, handles her silverware, etc.- when I smashed half of my mother's precious china when I was 10. I was walking through the hallways to my quarters, tired after a day's worth of orders and lessons. My parents were trying to prepare me for a big banquet that they were holding soon. I was also angry, and tried to give myself a brain freeze by eating ice chips from a wine goblet I had snagged from the kitchen. Goblets were grown-up and ladylike.

I passed the dining hall on my left, when a brilliant idea popped into my head. I would show them. I would show them that I could be the perfect lady.

Before ten minutes were up, I had one of my mother's china hutches open, dishes and teacups spread out on a side table. Two plates, a bowl, a saucer, and a spoon precariously balanced on my head, while I stole another spoon to eat my ice chips with.

I was in such deep concentration that I didn't hear Nathan and Bertha come in the side doors.

"Mistress Ella!"

When they thumped the trunk of silverware on the floor, I shrieked and threw my hands up, sending ice chips all over the polished floor. Bertha and Nathan could only watch in horror as the ice chips went one way, I went the other, and the dishes on the side table and my head crashed down.

I did say they were precariously balanced, after all.

The banquet was a success that night, despite the mysterious disappearance of Mother's finest china set. My Uncle Athos, already merry under the influence of wine, roared with laughter when he heard what happened. The others joined in once they heard the tale too.

* * *

None of my educational lessons held any true interest for me except for reading and gardening. Books were my escape route into another world, and outside in the gardens I was never fussed at for being dirty and muddy.

Mathematics was problematic for me, as Father was not a patient teacher. He had faith though that I would learn the basics... eventually. I did, after Uncle Aramis explained that math and shopping in the local markets with the maids were the same thing. He should have been the one I learned numbers from, being ruthless in trade business as well as the battlefield. On the other hand, maybe not, considering his definition of 'shopping' was more of shopping _for_ the maids, rather than shopping _with_ the maids.

My interests changed somewhat when Father brought home an enormous wall map of Kyrria and the surrounding countries, with a smaller foldable version for himself. He won it in a trade deal with a merchant who didn't know its true value.

Father gestured excitedly as Mother and I trailed into the sitting room. "Look, Ella, Connie! It was created by the best mapmakers in Kyrria, and they say it was enchanted by fairies!"

I didn't doubt it. Lines of water that were drawn as lakes and waterfalls moved. The Mines of Ayortha, where gnomes were said to have their kingdom in the mountains, rose majestically in the background. Little figures which might've been the gnomes scurried in and out of dark cave entrances, looking like ants. Smoke billowed out of dragon lairs that were labeled and interspersed throughout the desert region of Bamarre. Tiny illustrations of ogres and elves peeked out every now and then from behind trees in the forests, and the said trees even changed colors. Castles, fortresses, and towns from Greater Kulornia to Kyrria were clearly labeled, with the name, founding date, population, and main exports.

"Father, how did you get it, truly?" I traced the name _Frell_ on the map. This beautiful creation must have cost someone a fortune.

He grinned, one hand on my shoulder, another around my mother's waist. "A gentleman never tells his secrets, my dear!"

I became fascinated with that map. Geography was so much more interesting now that I could visualize the places that the books talked about. Writing, history, and music were more easily applied because I was now able to connect facts and events I had read about to the experiences of my father and uncles, who had traveled far and wide to these countries, and told me of their exploits.

"Mother, this book says that Lord Rickard of Ealdor was the man who opposed the King's Sentinels, and staged a coup against King Jerrold. Is that the evil man that Father and my Uncles fought against, years ago?"

She nodded, "Yes, Ella, he is one and the same. Your father and his friends cornered Lord Rickard to arrest him, so he could stand trial for his crimes. They were especially mad at him because not only did he almost manipulate three countries into a 6-year-war, kidnap the Queen and the Prince, and attempt to take the throne; he was also a good friend, or they thought he was, and fought beside them in many battles. In the battle that followed, Lord Rickard died." A smirk crept across her face. "He wasn't a good man, and I'm glad he's gone. But if he had died sooner than you wouldn't be here. In an indirect way, Lord Rickard was actually responsible for bringing your father and I together."

"That sounds... romantic, Mother."

"Indeed it was, dear. Indeed it was." Mother drifted off in her thoughts, a happy look on her face.

I walked out of the room before she could tell me more. It was fun to hear about in stories; but I wasn't interested in romance.


End file.
